


The White Queen

by imperfectandchaotic



Series: Midnight Mettle [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M, angsty friendship feels, mama!Mercedes emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-17
Updated: 2010-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:32:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectandchaotic/pseuds/imperfectandchaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kurt needs you, Blaine. He needs a friend like you now more than ever." She doesn't mean to tear up. But it happens anyway. "Don't screw this up for him. Just don't, okay? Please." </p><p>Because Mercedes will always look out for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	The White Queen

The first time she officially meets Blaine is in the middle of McKinley High's most crowded hallway, in front of Kurt's locker. Obviously not the most ideal meeting place for her to meet the friend-to-perhaps-turn-boyfriend of her best friend. But Mercedes will take what she can get.

"It's Blaine, right?"

The boy—so obviously and completely out of place in his Dalton uniform—looks up and smiles. He's beautiful; she has to give him that. "Right. You must be Mercedes. Good to finally meet you." He reaches out a hand, which the girl accepts after a slight raising of her eyebrow. He has a firm grip. So far, so good. "You haven't seen Kurt, have you?"

"He'll be here any minute."

Blaine's eyes are bright and dark, and his smile seems genuine. Mercedes puts her hands on her hips and gives this stranger her best 'don't you dare mess with me' face.

"Look. I need to get something out."

The elder boy nods. His smile doesn't move, doesn't freeze, but the darkness in his eyes deepens and understanding lines his lips. He doesn't say anything either, for which she is glad. The last thing she wants to hear right now is "Kurt and I are just friends. I'm not going to hurt him." She won't hear it right now, even if it may at this second be true.

"This isn't about me. This isn't about you, either. This is about Kurt. We may not spend as much time together as I'd like or we used to, but Kurt is still my best friend. I will always have his back, whether he wants or needs me to. I'm really, truly glad he's met you and been able to talk to you about what he's going through right now, because as much as I love him like family there will always be that part of him that I can't reach. But you can. So I should thank you for that, I guess."

Blaine nods. An air of seriousness overtakes his expression. "You're welcome. I'm glad to help."

At least he's not grinning like an idiot. Also a good sign. Mercedes regards him carefully, warily. She wishes there was a way of telling what kind of person someone was just by looking at them. Blaine seems nice, charming even. But she will not allow Kurt to make the mistake that Rachel did. She will not allow Blaine to be another Jesse.

"I'm telling you this now in fair warning. You and Kurt are friends now. Good friends, even. You guys have a bond that I can never have with him. I can't tell you how happy Kurt is to have you in his life, or how crushed he would be if you deserted him."

He opens his mouth, forehead creasing, but closes it again after a moment's pause. Smart boy.

"I don't care that you're a Warbler. I don't care that you're older. All I care is that you be good to my boy. Because if you guys start dating; if you take advantage of his feelings for you, if you hurt him in any way, I will bring the pain so hard you will never be able to sing again. Understand?"

Blaine nods again. From down the hall, Mercedes spots Karofsky—the hockey slimeball—who takes one look at Blaine's back, turns, and walks away.

"Kurt needs you, Blaine. He needs a friend like you now more than ever." She doesn't mean to tear up. But it happens anyway. "Don't screw this up for him. Just don't, okay? Please."

"I won't." The boy tilts his head slightly, as if in consideration. "You're an amazing friend, Mercedes. Kurt is lucky to have you."

The girl smiles just the tiniest bit sardonically. "Thanks." Mercedes reaches into her pocket for her phone, buzzing twice insistently with text messages.

_Is he here yet?_

_Stall him if he is, okay? Please? Be there in two._

Got it, she replies quickly. She looks back up to Blaine. If this were a chess game, she totally feels like she'd make a badass white Queen. Kurt would be her King of course; the one in need of protection. She hasn't decided what colour knight Blaine is yet on this complicated game board that has become their lives. She reserves the judgement for another time.

"I know something's up with Karofsky," she says sternly, staring him down. "I know something's up that Kurt hasn't told me. If you know what it is, great. Help him through it. But if Kurt ever lands in a dangerous position with that guy and his insane homophobia that involves him listening to your advice, we're going to have a big problem. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

She can actually tell he actually understands. It's a comforting thought.

"Good." Mercedes nods once, firmly. Blaine does the same. She knows Kurt's coming before his hand lands on her shoulder; she knows because of the way Blaine's eyes light up and crinkle at the corners—by the adorable smile lines that appear on his face. She has to hand it to Kurt. The boy picked well—for once.

"Blaine!"

Kurt's so happy to see him. It's all over that pretty boy face of his. The girl's heart jerks, just once, recalling fond days of diva solos and fabulous hats. Hopefully, days they will have again soon. She smiles as Kurt kisses her cheek, waving cheerily before both boys turn and walk away. She takes note of the way Blaine sticks close to the pale, wiry boy at his side, keeping one eye on him as they maneuver through the crush of people. He never looks away from Kurt. Not once.

Mercedes smiles slightly, with a little more sadness than she's willing to admit to herself.

Kurt picked a pretty good one.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm getting all nostalgic now - don't look at me.


End file.
